Tiny Moments
by Kristen APA
Summary: Short Anna x Bates drabbles based on a-tardis-at-downton's July fanfic prompts. Covers from S1 through 4 and in onto my own imagination for their future.


**A/N:** I decided to take a-tardis-at-downton's July prompts and do little short drabbles for them. I didn't write these in order (I just worked on them randomly throughout July) so I'm posting them all at once. The timeline jumps around through all the seasons and beyond (well, nothing from S5 spoilers) and is vague in some places. There's actually a bit of angst in here (gasp) but mostly fluffy. A few vague references to what happened in S4E3. And also some spoilers for _Jane Eyre_ (do I need a spoiler alert for something so old lol).

I didn't plan it this way, but my second DA first viewing anniversary is August 1st, so it's only fitting I post something that covers all four seasons thus far.

Also, it's however-whatever-whenever's birthday, and her blog was the first DA blog I ever followed. I was very excited to hop onto Tumblr check the tag, and be able to say "yay, other people love Anna and Bates too!" :D

Thanks to everyone who's left feedback in any form on my other work!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own _Downton Abbey._

* * *

_Novel_

She snuggled against him, focusing more on the rumble of his voice in his chest than the actual words he was reading. It was _Pride and Prejudice_ – her choice, and old favorite. Already knowing Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy's tale well, she simply took in the world around them, their cozy bedroom in their cottage. His warmth radiating, keeping her body and spirit alive. The only source of light in their home right now was the gas lamp beside the table. Her eyes drooped, tired. The day had been long, as they all were. But at night, they returned to their own residence, where they could hold each other freely.

* * *

_Wet_

They walked back to the abbey from church, trailing the rest of the servants. He didn't think that she'd still want to walk with him, not after he was not able to return her affections.

At least not properly.

He had brought an umbrella, the sky looking threatening. They walked in silent, she clutching her handbag. Rain drops began to fall.

Anna mentally prepared herself for returning home sopping wet. She hadn't paid much mind to the weather these pass few days. It had been so sunny anyway that she hadn't occurred to her that a summer storm was on its way. Hopefully her itchy hat would be enough.

But suddenly, there was shelter. She looked up and found Mr. Bates had placed his umbrella over her, offering her the handle.

"Oh thank you, but no, I think that there's quite enough room for two."

* * *

_Teatime_

Anna had always enjoyed teatime, and not just because it meant a snack and a bit of rest before she had to dress the girls for dinner—and now help serve dinner, what with the war on. It sometimes was the first time in the day after breakfast where she could sit with Mr. Bates.

It wasn't private, not with Miss O'Brien and Thomas sitting across from them at the table. But she still treasured any moment she had with him, especially after his forced absence.

Their hands brushed as they went for their utensil. Their fingers touched as she passed the butter. She tried to not to blush as she dared a glance at him.

Soon they'd have more than this and stolen moments in the courtyard.

* * *

_Future_

"So… what you do think?"

Anna looked over the room. This time, their (potential) new home came with fairly new furnishings. "Doesn't look like too much work down here. Just a little sprucing to make things our own." She walked the length of the inn's lobby. "I definitely like what I see. Let's check upstairs."

Her husband grimaced. "But your condition…"

"John, I'm six months pregnant, not dying." She rolled her eyes but giggled, rubbing her bump. "If we do buy this place, I am going to need to get to the bedroom to sleep. And rest, as you are always reminding me to do."

He chuckled a bit now at his silliness. "Yes, very true."

She liked the upstairs as much as the rest, the inn-keepers' quarters tidy but very spacious. Sitting down on the end of bed, she patted it for her husband to join her. He obliged, placing his hand over hers that cradled her stomach.

"I think we should take it. Ripon's not far from Downton, there's not too many repairs needed…"

"The timing though…" He laced his fingers with hers, unsure of two major life changes at once.

"When was our timing ever perfect, John Bates?" She smiled. "I think it works out just this once though."

* * *

_Bombs_

He had not had a nightmare in sometime. At least not one that featured the war. Losing her had been something that plagued his dreams instead.

The world felt like it was shaking. He realized now that he was no longer asleep. It wasn't their camp under siege. It was his wife fitfully tossing and turning.

Suddenly she was she was sitting up, in her own panicked haze.

They had a routine for these things, and he fumbled around struggling to make sense of everything, trying not to scare her.

"I'm all right," she finally mumbled, attempting to breathe deeply. "I'm awake."

He exhaled, and they sat in silence for a bit before she reached for him, her fingers lacing with his.

He wished he could tell her it would finally end, eventually, but that was a lie.

* * *

_Socks_

His lordship was not as rough as the girls were on their clothing. Anna was always mending torn hems and reattaching on loose buttons, day in and day out

Sewing was obviously a valued skill for a valet, and John wasn't bad at it, but he thought his stitches looked clumsy compared to the work of the maid's dainty, and yet long, fingers. He could sit for hours just watching her work. He really shouldn't though.

The earl had some old socks in need of darning. John set forth to the task, feeling a novice apprentice next to the learned master, Anna's needle flickering effortlessly through the fabric of one of Lady Mary's evening dresses.

"Mr. Bates, would you like me to show you a trick?"

Gulp, she had noticed.

At least Miss O'Brien was elsewhere at the moment.

He accepted her help, her carefully demonstrating, and then watching him try it out himself. She praised his work, and he thanked her profusely.

He was getting in too deep.

* * *

_Ruined_

She was scrubbing again.

John had gotten familiar to the sound; polishing the shoes, scouring their pots and pans, rubbing a stain out of some fabric. Her own skin bright pink when she came out from a bath. He loathed that he had grown so used to it, that it had been commonplace. But he knew why she did it.

This time it was the rug. She was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the carpet vigorously with a rag.

"I spilled some ink," she said quietly, not looking up to see him. He always made sure that his presence was known. She didn't always fully acknowledge it. "I'm afraid it's ruined."

"Anna," he began, gently and cautiously, "nothing is ruined." He carefully knelt down beside her and dipped the extra rag into the bucket of soapy water.

She looked up and gave him a grateful smile, as they continued to work. Together.

* * *

_Red dress_

John did not like shopping. He did like it if it meant spending time with his wife, and he did enjoy shopping for her. But the only thing he really liked buying himself was books, and even then, he tended to purchase books that he thought that she'd like, ones he could share with her.

He dutifully accompanied Anna on their half day errands in Ripon, passing store fronts, linked arm-in-arm. She paused slightly to glance at a red gown in the dress shop window, not as fancy as one of Lady Mary's, but nicer than anything she ever owned.

Her husband noticed her interest. Their fifth wedding anniversary was in a few weeks, and he was already planning a few surprises. "Do you like it?"

"Well for one, I won't fit in it soon enough…" Her hands automatically traveled to her expanding waistline, cradling the small swell.

He smiled. "But these new fashions are looser; I think you'll be able for awhile…"

She chewed her lip. "But where exactly am I going to wear it?"

"Well, to dinner in the near future?" He didn't want to give anything away.

"Ah, I see." She winked, pretending she couldn't guess what he had up his sleeve.

* * *

_Chimney_

"Where have you been? I was afraid you'd gotten lost." Anna stood in the doorway of the corridor that led to the stairs. Her hair was in a messy braid and she was clutching her robe closed.

He set the coal bucket down by the fireplace. "Mr. Barrow was outside."

Her eyes narrowed and she frowned. "Thomas? What was Thomas doing outside our house at this time of night?"

"Not exactly sure, but he apparently envies us."

"So he thought he'd stare our home in the middle of the dark."

He shrugged. "The whole thing was rather odd."

Bending down to tend to the fire, he soon felt a pair of hands on his back. "Let's not worry about him now," she said, walking her fingers across his shoulder.

He turned to her grinning. Her robe was open now, and he ran a hand up her leg and under her nightgown, smiling when he hit the garter she had bought in France.

"You naughty girl."

* * *

_Dog_

The Grantham Arms had seen a variety of guests that week, but this one today was the oddest. Margaret toddled after her parents, her father settling behind the front desk. Anna now trailed their daughter, who noticed their latest patron first.

"Puppy!" the little girl squealed, clapping her hands. Her mother's eyes widened with alarm as a little scrappy terrier bounded toward Margaret. But her fears were calmed when the pup gently gave her a lick on the cheek.

John rounded back around the front of the desk. "Well, who is this little fellow?"

"My puppy!" Margaret replied. The dog looked up at the tall man, tail wagging.

Anna knelt down, scooping up her daughter with one arm, and letting the dog sniff her other hand. It politely obeyed and then licked her fingers.

"Well, it certainly likes giving kisses," the blonde said.

They decided to keep the dog unless someone claimed him, but no one stepped forward to do so. And that's how the Bates family gained a new family member.

* * *

_Toaster_

Anna was very unhappy that Miss O'Brien had been their first guest to visit their home. Luckily, Mrs. Hughes was their second.

She presented them with a package. Opening it, they found a toaster.

"A house warming gift," she said.

The housekeeper had been proud of her discovery of the electric contraception and was passing the joy of owning one onto the newly reunited couple.

They didn't test it out until their next half-day, their normal work schedule now in motion. Anna got the rare occasion to wake up natural, John missing from bed. She padded down to the kitchen, back turned to her, arranging a tray, complete with toast. She grinned, but then hurried back to their bedroom in order to let him carry out his plan.

* * *

_Cricket_

"Mr. Crawley made a silly joke about you being lucky you weren't being forced to play cricket. But I have to ask, are you sad that you don't get to play?"

He thought for a moment. "Maybe. A little, I suppose. But I do get the better end of the bargain. Because you can sit in the scorekeeper's box with me." He approached her, a mischievous grin forming on his face. "We can watch the match together and you can keep me company." He reached out and laced his fingers with hers.

"Well, I do like the sound of that."

But the day of, the atmosphere in the box was a little tense, John worried that maybe he'd done the wrong thing where Mr. Barrow was concerned.

He felt her hands on his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. "Well, don't worry about Thomas lording over you. Under butler or not, Mr. Carson still trusts and respects you more."

He turned his head and looked up at her. She smiled down at him and they met in the middle for a kiss.

* * *

_Battle__ stations_

After the snuff box incident, it seemed that they were an official team. Anna certainly did not mind being paired off with Mr. Bates. He on the other hand did, afraid of dragging her into his troubles. Thomas and Miss O'Brien's actions were more than pranks, they were aiming to get him sacked, and he couldn't have her involved. He had to remain on high alert.

Anna worried that things would be awkward after her declaration. She had once turned down a farm boy shortly after first starting working at Downton Abbey as a teen. She'd see him in the village sometimes, and had let him down easy, or so she had thought. But it got to the point where he couldn't look her in the eye and scurried off when he saw her. She hadn't seen him in years now…

Things with Mr. Bates seemed to be back to their normal rhythm though. It would be hard not to. But she knew that he was protecting her. It was something she was not used to. She was going to have to show him that they could fight their battles together – even just as friends.

* * *

_Blue Sky_

He still was unsure of her plan, but he'd let it go. Once her mind was made up, there was no way of changing it, and it seemed like a surprise.

It was perfect picnic weather. The sky held little clouds, the brook babbled next to them. He watched her giggle as she continued unwrapping the meats and cheese for their meal. She was so goddess-like to him. It was too surreal that he was here with her now. He wanted to savor every moment of it.

Suddenly there was a cube of cheese under his nose. "Here, try this."

He gently took it from her fingers, her intent on feeding him. It was very good, and he indicated as much. She went to cut another piece, but he took it from her.

"Your turn."

She rolled her eyes, but giggled and relented.

He could watch her like this forever.

* * *

_Broken clocks_

The clock in the main hall stopped working. Normally Thomas would be the one to fix it, but he refused, as he was there on army business and no longer a servant.

Mr. Carson asked Mr. Bates to look into it, he didn't have the time.

Anna came across the valet in the hall, puzzled by it.

"I've never had to wind a clock before."

"I've might have seen Thomas do it once or twice." She reached and pushed the knob around a few times. "Something like that."

Their hands brushed as he took over the task. "Thank you," he said softly. They were a little too close, not for "comfort", but for being in a work environment.

"Anytime," she beamed. She scooted off to her duties, perhaps not knowing how flustered she'd left him.

* * *

_Illness_

Anna was rarely ill. She'd have a headache here and there, the occasional allergies. This cold that sneaked up on her certainly was a surprise.

It was really just the sniffles, but she knew better than to argue with Mrs. Hughes, and dutifully climbed into bed. She'd admit it was nice to put up her feet for a bit, but being ordered to stay there made her sad. She wanted to go to the fair with Mr. Bates and the others. Well, mostly Mr. Bates. But she wouldn't admit that out loud. They were just friends, no? Still, it would have been fun…

Mrs. Hughes came with the medicine. Anna figured not to waste the opportunity to nap, but she was woken up when Gwen came to change for her evening out. The other maid apologized and hoped her friend felt better soon.

She couldn't fall back asleep now; her nose was too stuffed up. She lit a candle and picked up her worn copy of _Sense and Sensibility_ to reread. The words swam a bit on the page.

Then there was a knock. Not at her door; it was coming from further away. Surely she was the only one up here.

She went to investigate. And was very happy at what she found.

* * *

_I love you_

She joined him in the courtyard, knowing he'd be there. Silently she sat beside him on the bench.

Finally he spoke, softly. "They won't call me up. Not with my leg."

"Selfish of me to say, but I'm glad."

"I suppose that's one thing I can spare you…"

Her hands sought his. He didn't push her away, but instead squeezed them in return.

"I don't want to make any promises, Anna. Not when I don't know where she is."

"We can just be like this though."

"But you deserve more than just this. Stuck here in some thing that's not even quite courting."

She sighed. "Why do you say these things? I'm happy with you, whichever way."

"I say these things because I love you, and don't want you to throw your life away waiting for something that probably won't happen."

She was taken aback at first, him finally saying those three words plainly. Finally, she responded, "I'm not throwing it away if I can spend some of it with you in some way. Before I met you, I'd have just planned to be in service all my life anyway. But as we have learned today we can't predict the future."

A door rattled as it opened, cutting off their conversation. He squeezed her hand one last time, and she nodded. Maybe there was hope after all.

* * *

_Cemetery_

It was scary thinking that this could have been her own future, her husband gone before his time. She grasped onto his arm now, needing the reminder that he was still with her.

She had tried to provide some comfort to the grieving widow. She might have been Lady Mary's employee, but she was also her confidante and friend. However, she felt helpless.

The family and staff stood in front of the grave, Reverend Travis reading the last rite. She chanced a glance at Lady Mary, whose face was etched in stone, trying not to betray her emotions. Anna's heart ached for her, for the newborn heir, feeling her other thoughts selfish. Still, she clung into John's arm.

* * *

_Automatic_

Anna did not believe in love at first sight. When John walked into her life that April morning, she greeted him like anyone else. He did make an impression on her though. He obviously cared about his job, arriving early. He was dressed nicely, had a firm handshake, and returned her smile. That made her like him already. He'd mean something to her, but what she didn't know just how much at the time.

Love came slowly, but surely. She didn't even realize it at first. Her feelings bubbled on the surface, only fully admitting to herself just how deep they ran when he brought her a tray when she had a cold. They had been co-workers, then good friends, but it blossomed into more, and that gesture told her that he felt the same.

And as the years passed, suffering through hardships but finally leading to marriage, their love only grew stronger. Further heartache awaited them, but their bond was unbreakable.

Anna's view on the notion that love was something that could come automatically changed the first time she held their newborn daughter, someone she loved before she even met.

* * *

_Sugar and spice_

Margaret wasn't too fussy of a baby, but like any newborn, her sleeping schedule was whenever.

John tried his best to help when their daughter cried in the night, changing nappies so Anna wouldn't have to get out of bed. He wanted her to get as much sleep as possible, but there was only so much he could do during feedings at two in the morning.

Tonight, she wouldn't go back to sleep after. Bouncing her nor rocking her seemed to do the trick. He held her upright against his chest, patting her back to no avail.

"Sugar and spice, and everything nice, that's what little girls are made of," he recited softly into her ear, his nose brushing up again her fine baby hair.

Margaret grew quiet and hiccuped.

"Ah, so you like nursery rhymes," he whispered.

The baby cooed, and John rattled off a few more.

Anna stood in the doorway of the nursery, admiring father and daughter, her family.

* * *

_Roses_

When they first moved into the cottage, Anna took it upon herself to see to the rose bush out front. A country girl at heart, she was very happy of the prospect of being able to tend to the flowers, something she didn't get to do at the Abbey, other that helping with arrangements when asked.

That month she was away, it was spring, and their blooming saddened John. He was unsure how to tend to them, having grown up in the city, and thinking of why they needed attention pained him.

She returned, and she did not chastise him for not looking after the roses. She took the project as a welcome challenge to focus her mind on other things.

The annual flower show came around, the anniversary of when their love was first spoken aloud. They attended this year in an attempt of normalcy.

Anna stopped in font of a bouquet of blooms with the most beautiful blend of pink, yellow, and orange petals, like a sunset.

"We should grow some like these," she said firmly.

They got the roots to plant along the side of their cottage. Anna set forth in the soil. John bent down to help.

"But your knee," she protested.

"It's quite alright," he smiled.

His knee was no consequence when it came to helping her heart.

* * *

_Jane Eyre_

Both Anna and Mr. Bates enjoyed reading. The latter had more time to read, though, so the maid got to see the valet's book choices more than he hers. She favored romance more than it did, so she was surprised to see him with _Jane Eyre_ prompted up on the servants' table. When she inquired, he said it thought that he'd read it for himself after she had praised the story.

"However, I am not liking this Mr. Rochester."

"Why ever not?" Anna saw a parallel that perhaps Mr. Bates did not.

But he did very much indeed. "Well, he's lead Jane on. Trying to marry her when still married to another."

"It works out in the end, keep reading."

"Still doesn't make what he put Jane through right. It's not fair of him."

"Mr. Bates, it's a romance, not real life."

"Is it now?" he said so softly she could barely hear him.

* * *

_Courtyards are for secrets_

She couldn't remember the first time they had gone to the courtyard to speak in private. It had been so many years now.

Poking in her into the servants' hall for a bit, she indicated for him to follow her back outside.

Upon reaching their destination, he finally spoke, "So then, how did it go?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice cracked too much for words to come out. All she could do was nod, enthusiastically and full of emotion.

He grinned, his eyes brimming with tears. Happy tears. If he could swept her off of her feet and spin her he could. But instead they settled for a long embrace.

Breaking apart, she finally found her voice. "Yes, John, you're finally going to be become a father." She took one of his hands and placed it gently on her lower abdomen.

"Most importantly, you'll be a mother." He leaned in and they shared a kiss.

* * *

_Sea_

He watched her run off to the ice cream cart. It was the most carefree he had seen her in so long. He felt bad about berating her about the coat, bad that he had lied about being in London that day. But it would have been false hope – the tenants did not offer enough for the house.

The immediate reason for the change of scenery was gone anyway. The vile man would never be returning regardless of her ladyship's status with her beaus. That came as a relief, at least. The monster would still plague her dreams though, no matter where she was.

Keeping busy was her way with coping, hoping to tire herself out so much that her mind couldn't even form the nightmares. The Season was so bustling that it seemed to do the trick these past weeks. But at the same time, she had been looking forward to this excursion too, and he was glad she was, not afraid of being allowed some form of happiness and fun.

He hated how she had thought she didn't deserve a future anymore. The woman who had raised him out of a similar state of just getting by, who had taught it was all right to love again, who had done so much to ensure his freedom in so many senses. The world was too cruel to take that from her.

But as she turned around, ice dream cones clutched in her hands, she was smiling. A genuine smile.

* * *

_Strength_

He would forever admire how strong she was. It was one of the qualities that had drawn him to her. Faced with tough odds, she always made it though. He marveled at her resolve, wishing that he could instead shield her from all of this, protect her. She wouldn't have any of it though. She just needed his support, she'd say. Still, he tried to make things better for her in the simplest of gestures, knowing it added up to something.

She'd thank him, and tell him that without his love, she wouldn't be here. That thought scared him. But she _was_ here, with him, and that's what mattered.

* * *

_Birthday_

The chair scratched the hard floor as she sat down at the little table. Some visits were allowed one-on-one, like today, and some not, at this jail. He told her, tone more bitter than sweet, that if he was sentenced to prison they'd all to be this way.

"Happy birthday," he said lowly. "I'm sorry I couldn't say that in person yesterday."

"I got your letter though, it was lovely." She smiled, trying to make the most of it.

"It's just that it was your first birthday as my wife, and I didn't spend it with you." John did feel guilty – but about this and not the crime he was being charged with.

"We'll have next year," she said, smiling through it all. She truly believed it. John didn't dare to hope.

"So, how was your day?"

"Daisy baked me a cake. It was a good. Mrs. Hughes gave me some new handkerchiefs with my new initials on it." Anna was more than happy to switch the "S" for a "B."

"I should have sent her a letter asking to her to get something from her to give to you from me."

"Seeing you know is a gift enough. Plus, you gave me your name, which is now on those new hankies."

He smiled, but sighed. His marriage to her tied her to his downfall, which he felt inevitable with the trial still to come.

But yet, he could not regret it, because he loved her so much, and had wanted to marry her as much as she had him. He hated having to put her through this, always believing that she deserved more, but she had chosen him, and for that he was truly blessed.

* * *

_Old_

Anna strained her eyes as she gazed in the mirror. Was that strand gray or not? The bags under her eyes she could account for. Having a newborn meant keeping odd hours with little sleep.

But wait, was that a wrinkle?

"I'm getting old," she sighed exasperated.

John was adjusting his tie. "My darling, you are not old."

She sighed again, inserting a hair pin into her bun. She had become a mother much later in life that most woman, marrying a little older than the average and not being blessed with a child straightaway.

"Besides if you'd old, then I'm ancient."

"Don't say that," she chided.

He chuckled. "Well, at least we'll be old together."

* * *

_Trenches_

John did not envy the soldiers in the trenches. While he understood his lordship's listlessness of not being able to serve his country in the way he once had, his valet had no desire to go to war again, making him grateful for his injury for the first time.

The fighting was much different now – trenches instead of guerrilla warfare. It sounded like a horrible strategy to him.

There was another significant difference as well. If he was to go now, this time he'd have someone waiting for him. Not that he technically didn't before, but leaving behind Anna a second time was not something he felt he could do. He worried about the heartbreak she'd face if he didn't return home. He'd already hurt her when Vera forced him away. He never wanted to do that a second time if he could help it.

Fate would intervene, but it was not the Great War overseas that separated them, but one forged in London, by a woman determined to take him down with her.

* * *

_Definition_

The maids had a book of names and their meanings, looking theirs up in turn. John already knew the meaning of his and that of his wife: "God is gracious" for him, "God has favored me" for Anna. Both referred to a higher being that he didn't even really believe in.

But he believed in the woman sitting beside him, animatedly engaged in conversation with Miss Baxter. It had taken some time for her to speak so freely and unguarded again. God, if he existed, had been more harsh than favorable to her. And yet, here she was, doing her best through all the struggles she faced.

She turned to him smiling. He smiled back. God have not been gracious to either of them, but his darling Anna was full of grace.

* * *

_Miracle_

She was mesmerized by the bundle in her arms. It was almost too surreal, a haze washing over her. After everything, after all the hardships, this dream managed to come true. _They can manage_.

She could already see so much of them in their daughter, her hair her father's, her eyes her mother's. Their love had created something so wondrous and perfect. The baby waved her tiny hands, smiling up her mother, whose eyes were misty with tears of happiness.

She only tore her eyes away for a second, to smile at her husband as he entered the room. "You were right, it's a girl. A perfect little girl."

His face broke out into a grin, sitting himself down on the bed beside his family. He stroked the baby's cheek, the little one beaming up at her parents. She then grasped onto his finger, her own tiny digits barely making it around one of his.

It had just been the two of them for so long, but after everything, they were three. Their hearts were bursting with love, joy, and pride for their new addition. Their daughter. Their miracle.

* * *

**A/N: **I wrote this at random intervals and out of order throughout July, so I apologize for there not really being a flow. And some of these just aren't that good, whoops.

There really are licensed _Downton Abbey_ roses, the first of which is called "Anna's Promise." however-whatever-whenever on Tumblr has the official rose bush if you want to see what it really looks like.

"Old" was written before the TCA panel btw.

For the names one, I was mainly going off a Tumblr gif set of DA character names. The name "Anna" can mean just "grace" (or "favor") so I tried to show that as well.

Thanks for reading!


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